


Meaning Is A Jumper That You Need To Knit Yourself

by 42gabi24



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aged-Up Morty Smith, BAMF Morty Smith, Female Morty Smith, Future Fic, Gen, Grandpa Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Maybe Non-Incestuous R/M, Morty Smith Needs A Hug, Time Skips, Young Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/42gabi24/pseuds/42gabi24
Summary: Morty Smith knew Rick Sanchez inside and out, all his pathologies, tastes and most intimate fears after years upon years together. Honestly, creating a society with him didn't seem like such a bad idea, especially when they finally met on level ground.--A bunch of interconnected but non-chronological plot bunnies (maybe, maybe not) that come to me as I go along.
Relationships: Beth Smith/Jerry Smith, Morty Smith & Summer Smith, Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Meaning Is A Jumper That You Need To Knit Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> First things first, I won't be writing incest, that is to say, R/M or any of its derivatives as portrayed in canon. If I write R/M it'll be in a dimension where they're not related, from dimensions where Rick didn't have a kid and thus grandkids, etc. They'll always be similar ages too.
> 
> Just in case and for the sake of context, J-0051 means a different thing from C- 467, so don't get confused if Morty refers to himself as both.

Morty J-0051 was unimpressed. Really, as far as dimensions went Aα-J18 was normal and followed the established pattern. A Rick set shop in the new dimension by exploiting his daughter emotionally, the Jerry was the epitome of mediocrity, the Morty was born to an unhappy marriage yada, yada, yada.

J-0051  knocked, slightly annoyed that _he_ had to be the one to do it. The Citadel had standards now and by standards, he meant to say time to waste now that the siege of Topee was over and they got those sweet, sweet topesian mines all to themselves. (And their workers!) Brass was bored and that meant that Morty got to be the dancing monkey.

That said, he didn’t understand why did they need a captain to do the recruitment on this bum-fuck-nowhere dimension, one-million iterations off the Finite Curve. For all they knew Rick Sanchez might not even be born in this one, but alas, they needed Ricks and Ricks he’ll have to chase after. Like always. Fine, a slight pandering here, a portal address to catalogue there and boom ‘please report to the nearest administration office to arrange a meeting with Neo-Council representatives.’

All he had to do was to knock.

“Coming!”

Morty waited, bored and a bit hot from the basic uniform he was wearing. White was the worst color one could possibly wear during summer, but honestly Morty would rather go naked than put a yellow shirt on ever again.

A slightly more sober looking Beth opened the door, a toddler settled on her hip and no Jerry in sight.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The toddler babbled after her and Morty had a spare second to coo over how cute he was, before getting back to business.

“Good-” He tilted his head to look at the position of the Sun. “Morning, Mrs. Smith, I’m here to speak to Rick Sanchez, I represent the Citadel, formerly known as the Citadel of Ricks and the Citadel of Mortys. Depending on when exactly you visited.” Morty stated in monotone before fishing out his badge from an inner pocket of his white over-coat. It wasn’t something that could really prove that he was who he claimed to, or be read by anyone else beside his Commanding Officer, but it did give him an air of authority his baby-face couldn’t.

At this point most Beths nodded absentmindedly and yelled for their father, but this Beth squinted suspiciously at the badge before bursting into a short laugh. For a moment Morty was reminded of his own mother back when she wasn’t so unhappy as to leave her family behind for a life of self-discovery. 

“Is this a prank?” She asked, her lips tilting up in amusement. “I’m sorry, are you one of dad’s students?” The corners of her lips had faint laugh-lines, making her look happier and more relaxed than ever. Morty frowned at her question, don’t tell him it was one of  _ those  _ dimensions where the Smiths didn’t know about Rick’s adventures off planet. Even worse, it sounded like this Rick got into  _ teaching,  _ of all things. He snapped the badge closed, hiding the small booklet into the folds of his inner coat.

“Ma’am may I  _ please  _ speak with your father? This isn’t a prank, and I’d rather clear up a few things with him in person. It’s an… ehem, it’s a delicate topic.”

The woman who might’ve been his mother in another universe blinked at his terse tone, last traces of laughter disappearing behind a look of thinly-veiled concern. The toddler in her arms cooed at something, making grabby hands at Morty, only to be pulled back by one of Beth’s pale hands.

In these moments Morty missed dearly the dramatic entrances via portal in the middle of the Smith living room. At least that way they didn’t dare to dismiss the armed men that invaded their home and demanded they be taken seriously. Policies, can’t live with them…

Fuck policies and fuck bureaucrats. He wanted his intimidating entrance and his blasters.

“Of course,” She disappeared behind the door which didn’t quite slam, but it did leave Morty all alone outside the suburban neighborhood. He heard the muffled shout of ‘Dad!’ followed by several thumps of socked feet against hardwood down the hall of the house.

Morty summoned the last ounce of patience to not storm out of this middle-class hell-hole. He checked his mail and he filled a whole report while he waited. (It was two lines long that said something like ‘Suck my dick, you puppet bastard’ at Morty B-66 that liked getting on his case each time he delayed submitting his reports.)

“Hello?” Finally, Morty rolled his eyes. He quickly turned towards the familiar voice to face-

“You’re not Rick.” Morty blurted. The man in front of him was not Rick. It was some elderly gentleman Morty might’ve held the door for back when he lived on Earth, bearded and slightly pudgy from years of beer and family barbecues. Nothing like the alcoholic waif that was Rick Sanchez. 

Morty floundered for a few seconds wondering if there really was no Rick in this dimension only for common sense to kick in. Some things were unmistakable. Like the powdery blue hair, tamed into something more respectable than the wild spikes Ricks had, and the intelligent sparkle that intimidated, and fascinated Morty in equal parts.

There was no doubt that this was Rick Aα-J18. 

(Morty had his work cut for him.)

“Son,” A hand landed softly on his shoulders, making Morty flinch from habit. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, uh. Excuse me,” He shook off the elderly man’s hand from his shoulder, noting how the action made the mn in front of him frown even more. “Are you sure- are you Rick Sanchez?”

“Yes, I’m quite sure I’m myself,” The Rick laughed at his own joke and even Morty managed to crack a polite half-smile. If the Beth looked more relaxed than normal then the Rick was on cloud fucking nine. Dopey faced and red-cheeked, he looked more unfamiliar than any wasp iteration of the same man.

Morty wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“Do you want to come inside, son? You don’t look fine.”

“Yes, yes, I appreciate it. Thank you.” The inside of his childhood home was the same as in any of its versions. Again, the only differences he saw were the many family portraits splashed on the walls in an anachronic mess of the Smith family history. Beth pregnant, Beth and Jerry on their wedding day, Rick and his grandmother on their wedding anniversaries and many, many other flashes of a life J-0051 couldn’t quite comprehend. It felt like stepping into another universe completely unfamiliar to his own, and Morty’s seen things so mind bending he wanted to forget all about them.

“So, you wanted to speak to me?” They made their way to the living room, Morty discarding the white uniform coat on the overburdened hanger to pick up later. He patted his pockets and various holsters, making sure his portal gun  _ and  _ his gun-gun were where he left them in their respective holsters. Experience had taught him to always check no matter how disoriented. He’d seen companions die because they got too comfortable, experience was valued. 

Beth fretted around them when they sat on the dinner table, offering water and juice and whatnot Morty had to decline with an increasing level of awkwardness. All the meanwhile, the little toddler watched at Morty with his beady eyes, making the occasional inquisitive noises from his plush-looking playing pen.

“We’re fine, thank you sweetie.” Rick told his daughter with none of the barely-held annoyance that used to lurk in his tone. Morty felt like he should be taking notes.

“Alright,” She said, giving Morty one final smile that felt surprisingly genuine. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

“Uhm…” What do you call a grandpa!?

“It’s fine if you call me Rick, I don’t think I remember you from my classes, but if you feel uncomfortable, you can call me Mr. Sanchez.”

“Mr. Sanchez.” Morty jumped straight in, small mercies and all that. “This is a bit of an awkward situation for me, I don’t know how to ask you this…”

Shit, how could he ask this? ‘ _ Sir have you invented interdimensional portals yet?!”  _

Noooo. Fuck Morty and his small peanut brain.

“Sir have you ever come in contact with interdimensional travel perhaps? In recent years- or even toyed with the idea on paper?”

This was why Morty Smith of dimension J-0051 was a soldier and not a strategist

The silence was so awkward Morty wished he could create a portal right that instant and disappear. Mr. Sanchez looked just as startled as Morty felt.

“How did you know about that? I’ve kept it a secret for almost thirty years!”

“Well don’t admit it so openly!” Morty screamed back in indignation, barely remembering that Beth was a room away and it didn’t even have doors. He leaned closer to the man who looked increasingly more concerned. “Powerful entities would do unimaginable things just to get a single line of your calculations, this is why-!”

At this point Morty realized that the only thing he was doing was confusing and scaring Rick more than he was warning him. It was time for a different approach. He leaned back, restoring Mr. Sanchez’s personal space (stay away from my personal space!). He bowed his head in thought, lifting his hand to his chin. Finally he looked Mr. Sanchez in the eyes.

“I’m deeply sorry, Mr. Sanchez.” He combed his hand through his hair in a purposeful show of nervousness. “I didn’t explain myself properly- nor did I introduce myself.”

He offered his gloved hand in a handshake towards Mr. Sanchez.

“My name is Morty Smith, from dimension C- 467, and I’m here to help you and warn you of the potential dangers of interdimensional and interplanetary travel, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Morty Smith?” Mr. Sanchez’s unibrow flew higher than what Morty thought possible before sending a single surreptitious glance towards the little tyke chewing on his toy elephant. The nervous synapses in Morty’s brain finally decided to fire up, making him swerve dangerously fast towards the baby. The kid further confirmed his suspicions, he could recognize that vacant look in his eyes anywhere since the day he could recognize himself in the mirror.

“I-”

“Are you really him?” Mr. Sanchez’s intellect didn’t disappoint, of course the travel between dimensions was not only possible but also fascinating. “How? My grandson is a toddler you’re seventeen at most-”

“I’m nineteen, thank you very much.” It was an useless protest, Rick was having the time of his life annotating calculations and brief notes on a ratty notebook he had procured from somewhere. Little Morty sat in his playpen utterly unperturbed of the ongoings around him. J-0051 could see the similarities between this Rick and his, now.

“...The fact that the multiverse exists and you can prove it is already incredible, I haven’t tried to put my calculations into practice, but I can already guess that none of our actual predictions align with reality. This opens a whole new realm of possibilities…”

At this point Morty and everyone who shared brainwaves with him tended to tune out the complicated technobabble and space out. Sure, most had to learn about physics as part of their day-to-day lives, hell most Mortys needed a basic knowledge in physics to survive, but actually discussing science and taking interest in it was a Rick thing. You either knew what the Rick was talking about and didn’t need to interrupt or you didn’t, and you couldn’t ask for an explanation. 

Then you died because you didn’t know how to disarm a neutrino bomb.

“Morty?”

“Yes?”

“I asked if you could tell me more about your experience as a dimensional traveler?” Morty found his curiosity amusing, Ricks always knew everything, but this one didn't. How refreshing- certainly very strange.

“Me well- uh, I really don’t have the authority to divulge the information,” Mr. Sanchez’s fell comically, it almost made Morty want to tell him, except protocol locked his jaw tightly closed and his disposition slightly nervous. “This is why I came here, Mr. Sanchez. We want to let you know that across all the Finite Curve, many, many Ricks have tried to explore the multiverse and have come across infinite dangers set out to destroy everything as we know it, and would do terrifying things just for this notebook.” He pointed at Mr. Sanchez’s neat scrawls, noting how his hands came up to protect the writing. 

The truth was that he’s trying to appeal to this clueless man’s morality, this Rick cared about his family and the planet they lived in and Morty could exploit that if it benefitted the Citadel. If he got to convince the man in front of him that the Citadel had more benefits than drawbacks, they could introduce an entirely new series of Ricks that would gladly take on the teaching roles their schools sorely needed. The Citadel, on the other hand- and him to a certain extent- didn’t give a fuck about Earth or its many versions. 

Using Mr. Sanchez's distraction, Morty rummaged through his back pocket knowing that he had taken some informational pamphlets with him. For a single second he wondered whether he should give Rick the Morty version or the Rick version- the Rick version, of course being made by Ricks for Ricks and as such describing the various benefits of organized robbery, embezzlement and terrorism across an infinite number of galaxies. Something about the wholesome family portrait above the fireplace told Morty it would be a bad idea to let Mr. Sanchez anywhere near a typical Rick so he stuffed those as far down his pocket as he could.

“It’s a lot to explain and a lot to take in- but hey, at least we make pamphlets!” He offered the pieces of paper- Who knew that trees were universal and more than renewable in outer space? "

Mr. Sanchez looked sceptical as he shuffled through the leaflets, taking the reading glasses he had in his breast pocket to read the tiny letters better. Distantly Morty recognized the particular piece of propaganda, in that case with some serious anti-Citadel messages he read back when he debated whether he should leave with his Rick or enlist for the mandatory service. 

‘Smoke gets in your eyes, and other tales from the Citadel’ was all about the mundane routine of a worker's life in the Citadel, much more different than the mundane routine of a worker's life on Earth.

Not too incriminating, but child labor probably looked bad on paper...

“Either way,” Morty cleared his throat, realizing that his sudden exclamation startled Mr. Sanchez. Little him squealed happily at his plush toy, more interested in the colourful monstrocity. “I think it’s best if I were to leave you alone to… process all of this,” He made an all-encompassing gesture around the room, before taking out the portal gun from its holster discreetly. “And I have things to take care of some things myself, I’ll come back in a week... I guess.” Or maybe someone else will substitute him once the recruitment manager realizes how weird this iteration was. Either way Morty wasn’t holding his breath. 

He’d rather spend his days on Globnar V than wade through this confusing mess of abandonment issues and sheer weirdness. Once he was sure that the man who barely looked like Rick Sanchez, but acted nothing like Rick Sanchez was sufficiently distracted, he didn’t hesitate in opening a portal on the floor beneath him, letting himself fall to the unknown destination, chair and all.

“Wait-!”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this one fanfic I can't remember the name of, but was really cool.
> 
> I was so hyped when I wrote/edited this, then I chose to read it again just in case and it was complete crap, so I might not continue it. Either way I had fun writing it and I hope you had fun reading it. 
> 
> Please leave review and take care.


End file.
